


Actually Soft

by Dark_and_night



Category: Black Christmas (1974), Black Christmas - Fandom
Genre: One Shot, Other, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-30
Updated: 2019-11-30
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:21:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21612940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dark_and_night/pseuds/Dark_and_night
Summary: Billy starts getting fixated on you.
Relationships: Billy Lenz/Reader, Billy Lenz/You
Comments: 1
Kudos: 125





	Actually Soft

Billy loved you the moment he saw you. Not in the way that normal people feel love at first sight, not the kind of love that made people feel a heavy weight in their chests or whatever. He loved you because you looked like a fighter.  


Billy loved fighters. As much fun as it was to listen to people cry and get scared over the phone, he could get bored of that pretty quickly. When he saw you, the first thing that came to mind was that you would be a lot of fun to fuck with.  


You wore masculine clothes, heavy boots, and a mean look on your face. Billy especially loved your eyes. They were always glaring, on the defense. Your eyes made him excited. If he dared look at them too long, he’d start shaking, and his pants would get tight. He couldn’t wait to hear you over the phone for the first time, couldn’t wait to see what kind of person you would be like when you were scared.  


One of the ways he enjoyed pre-messing with you was to be in your line of vision a lot. Being out where he knew you would be. Occasionally he would speak near you, just often enough so that when he inevitably started making phone calls to your house, you would recognize his voice and be all the more terrified that you couldn’t place it. Billy wasn’t a patient man, but one thing he could do forever was come up with new ways to scare unsuspecting people.  


You were almost never out of his sight. He followed you everywhere, watching your menacing figure and reveling in all of the ways that he could scare you. He wanted to see who you were when you were faced with something like him.  


Billy knew he had to wait until just the right time to call you. The first time had to be special, after all. However, it never felt like the right time. Which was as infuriating as it was confusing. Billy had never stalked someone so long, and it was starting to make him antsy.  


It all came to a close one not so special night when you came home after grocery shopping. Billy watched you enter your house, biting his thumbnail roughly, tearing off his nail and making himself bleed.  


'Fuck.' He thought. 'Fuck, fuck, fuck it!'  


Billy scanned your house before he finally found a window that hadn’t been locked. Sliding it open, careful to be silent, he climbed up into the window and into your bathroom, his thin frame working to his advantage. He moved to the door, peeking out into the hallway. He heard you shuffling about in the kitchen, putting away the groceries you’d never get the chance to eat.  


He paused for a moment when he realized that you were humming. He frowned, thinking that humming seemed very out of character for someone as intimidating as you. Your boots clomped against the kitchen floor as your humming floated on the air.  


Billy pushed those thoughts out of his head as he crouched in the bathroom, waiting for the moment he would finally come and get you. It felt wrong that he hadn’t called you, that he never got to scare you over the phone, that his entire process was off, and now you were humming and not acting how he thought you acted when you were alone, and fuck, he was so pissed off, everything was wrong and not how he did things, and why couldn’t he just call you and fuck with you like he always did when he targeted someone, and god why the hell did he find you so interesting?  


He curled up on the floor, tucking his knees against his chest as he heard you walk past his hiding spot and into your room. Billy sat there like that, stewing, until he realized that he hadn’t heard any noises for a long time.  


Silently standing, he walked down to your room, all of these strange emotions burning a hole in his chest. He didn’t even have his knife on him, he was so unprepared. And you made him like this.  


He walked into your room, seeing your sleeping form on the bed. It was dark, and he could barely see. Billy clenched his fists so hard it made his arms shake. He wanted to see you, damn it. He debated turning on the light, but then what if you woke up? His strength came from the element of surprise. God, how had everything gotten so messed up?  


Billy stood over you for a long time, stuck in his thoughts, confusion and anger spreading through his limbs as he watched you.  


Suddenly, a car’s headlights flashed in the window, and for a moment, your room was illuminated. Stuffed animals, light colors, and all things cute flashed in front of his eyes, and Billy was distracted from his anger. He had been so entranced by you that he had tunnel vision, but the sight of your room snapped him out of it.  


He looked around your room, eyes widening as they adjusted. Wall to wall stuffed animals, glow in the dark stars stuck to the ceiling, a fluffy pink lamp on your desk. The desk was in front of the window, and Billy walked over, looking at your belongings strewn across it. Small trinkets, pretty pens, and a diary.  


The diary was glittery and iridescent, shining in the light from the outside streetlight. Billy picked it up, gently turning it over in his hands before finally opening it. His heart nearly stopped when the first thing he saw in its pages was his own face.  


It was a sketch of him. He turned the page, and there was another sketch of him, this time one of his whole body, he was sitting on a park bench. His hands started shaking, and he flipped through the pages, finding more drawings of him.  


You had seen him, drawn him with your own two hands, recreating his image on paper for no reason. He didn’t understand it. Why would you draw him? Do anything for him? Why on earth would someone see him, and then take the time to lovingly bring him to life on the pages of their diary, line by line? How long had you seen him? How long did it take you to draw his likeness? Why? Why?  


It felt…confusing. All of a sudden, the rage and bloodlust that had occupied his chest just…turned off. He didn’t want to kill you anymore, not tonight. Not tonight.  
Without the urge to kill, he felt strangely empty.  


Billy turned, looking at your sleeping form. You didn’t seem so menacing when you slept. He put down the diary, walking back over to you.  


He saw that one of your hands was peeking out from under the covers. The hand that had drawn him, over and over. The empty feeling was being slowly replaced with something else. Drop by drop, this new feeling filled his chest, a feeling he couldn’t place or comprehend. The feeling confused him, and that helped Billy, because he understood confusion. He latched on to that feeling, ignoring the strange new sensation that kept creeping into him.  


Billy wanted to touch you. Not in anger, not in violence. He wanted to touch the hand that had created him over and over again on paper. Billy had never touched someone without violence before, he wasn’t sure how to.  


Slowly, softly, he dragged his nails over the top of your hand. You shifted slightly in your sleep, pulling your hand under the covers and turning away from him.  


He watched you for a moment longer before walking out, going to the bathroom and slipping back out the window, gently closing it once he was out of the house. Maybe he could afford to follow you a while longer. After all, Billy knew your schedule, knew where you lived, and now he knew your secret little soft side. He had all the time in the world to come for you again. And now he knew, you wanted him too.


End file.
